


An Interlude

by itchyfingers



Series: The It Ain't Over World [2]
Category: Michael Fassbender - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Image, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, genius, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itchyfingers/pseuds/itchyfingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stories about Michael Fassbender and Halla that take place between the end of It Ain't Over and the beginning of A Year in the Life.<br/>And now this is the place for random one-shots I write about Fassbender and Halla, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One Where James Finds Out

Halla moaned softly as Michael kissed her stomach. She was fairly certain that there wasn’t an inch of her skin he hadn’t kissed in the last thirty hours. He continued kissing his way up her abdomen, trailing his tongue along her sternum. His hands closed over her breasts as he moved up her body and his thumbs circled her nipples as his tongue plunged into her waiting mouth. She moaned again, tasting herself on his lips and she ran her nails down his back, making him arch his back. She loved the feel of him under her hands; it was like petting a jungle cat, sleek skin and strong muscles and barely restrained power.

She hooked one of her legs around Michael’s thigh as she kissed his throat, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. It was rough against her tongue with his stubble and she bit softly, getting a groan from Michael in response. She could feel him hard against her even through his pants and part of her brain wondered if he had any condoms stashed in his living room or if they were going to make another pilgrimage to his bed.

She pressed her hips upward, circling them against him as she continued kissing down his throat when there was a knock at his door. She paused and looked up at him. He shook his head. “They can come back later if it’s important.” She went back to his neck, that long delicious column of skin and licked at the flesh where it merged with his shoulder. She blew against the moisture, making him shiver as it evaporated and continued to kiss across his shoulder as he pressed kisses into her hair.

Again the knock at the door. She rubbed her hips against him again, tightening her leg around him.  She didn’t want to stop now, not when he was resting between her legs, his hard cock rubbing against her heat with each movement of her hips. She rubbed her hands down his back, slipping her hands inside his pants and scraping her nails over the firm curves, smiling against his shoulder as the muscles tensed under her hands.

This time it was a pounding at the door. She could feel the muscles knotting under her hands and mouth before he got to his feet. He stalked across the room to the door and Halla debated whether or not she should tell him that there was a definite darker area on the front of his pants where he had been rubbing against her, but she heard the door yank open before she could make up her mind.

“What?” he demanded. There was a pause of a second before the door slammed shut.

Michael walked back into the living room, rubbing a few fingers against his chin as he grinned. “So, it’s James. I forgot he was coming over for the Scotland-Ireland rugby match this afternoon.”

Halla scrambled to her feet and ran for the bedroom and Michael chased after her laughing. He hurried into a pair of jeans and headed back down the stairs pulling on a shirt while Halla rifled through her bag. They had made it to her flat long enough yesterday to get her clean clothes for the weekend so at least she wouldn’t have to go downstairs wearing Michael’s shorts, but this was going to be so embarrassing. Maybe Michael would just let her hide in his bedroom until James left again.

She pulled on a pair of knickers and slumped down on the edge of the bed as she realized the pair she had been wearing was somewhere – she wasn’t really sure where they had ended up when Michael had taken them off her earlier – downstairs. Not that pink lace was going to stand out  _at all_  in his nice masculine living room. That’s it. She was just going to stay in here forever.

She stared at the ceiling for a minute before she realized she was hungry. Damn her stomach. She pulled on a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt and went downstairs and straight into the kitchen. She opened the fridge only to find the leftovers of the take-away from last night and a six pack of some microbrew that hadn’t been there earlier. James must have brought it. Someone was really going to have to teach that boy to buy some veg at the market or he was going to die of scurvy or rickets or something suitably Victorian sounding. She called out, “I’m ordering food. What do you want?”

“Hello, Halla.”

She felt her face heat at the laughter in his voice. “Hello, James.”

“Order pizza.”

“No, get Chinese food, with the barbeque pork.”

“Chinese isn’t rugby food.”

“Neither is pizza.”

She grabbed her laptop off of the table and set to ordering food, Chinese and pizza and Salvadorean. She had a craving for pupusas. A few minutes later she went into the living room and took a seat next to Michael on the sofa, thankful that he had taken the center position and was covering up the wet spot that she was positive she had left earlier. The pre-game babble played quietly in the background as the three of them regarded each other awkwardly.

“So, poppet, I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you either.”

“That much was fairly obvious.” His nose crinkled as he nodded repeatedly. Halla sighed and rested her head on her knees. She was going to die. She was going to prove that it was physically possible to die of embarrassment. She was going to be famous. For dying. She’d be in books. Her death would advance the cause of science. It would totally be worth it.

She could feel Michael shaking next to her with repressed laughter and smacked him in the thigh. “This isn’t funny,” she muttered.

He picked her up and seated her in his lap. “It’s a little funny.” He wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear, “And I have your knickers in my pocket.”

Halla wondered how it was possible for her to still be blushing after everything that had already happened, but she felt the familiar heat in her cheeks again and hid her face in her hands again. “You’re such a boy,” she murmured.

“So,” James dragged out the word, turning the vowel into music, “how long have you two been…canoodling?”

Halla giggled. “Canoodling? What are you, a grandmother?”

He chuckled and scratched at his beard. “It seemed a bit more polite than shagging.”

Halla snorted. “A day.”

“Ah, so this is new then?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Just wondering if my plan worked.”

Halla looked up at Michael in confusion, but he didn’t seem to have any more idea of what James was talking about than she did. “What plan?”

“I could only put up with so much of Michael here crying into his Guinness–,”

Michael’s chin lowered as he gave James a dirty look. “I didn’t cry.”

“Mooning then. Mooning over you.” James’s smooth Scottish slipped into Michael’s deeper, slightly rougher Irish accent. “Should I call her? Maybe I should go by the museum. Do you think it’s been long enough? I’m going to call her. No, I’m going to wait. No, I’m going to call her.”

Halla looked at Michael, biting her top lip to keep from laughing. She could feel a tremor in her cheeks though. “You were mooning?”

He huffed. “I may have asked for advice a few times.” He ran a finger along her jaw and fixed her with his compelling eyes. “I didn’t want to fuck it up again,” he said softly, and Halla’s breath caught in her throat as she got a small insight into how much he regretted what had happened in Rotterdam. Her smile softened and she snuggled into him, resting her head against his shoulder.

“I told him Anne-Marie was sick and suggested he call you to go to the premiere.”

Michael’s head popped up from where he had been resting his lips against Halla’s forehead. “You mean she wasn’t ill?”

“No.” He grinned. “I lied.” 


	2. Not Just Roomates

Michael kept thinking about that speech he had given Halla on the balcony in Rotterdam, about all the little quirks she had, and how much he wanted to find out if she had any other ones. It turns out she did. He watched her stretched out on his sofa on her stomach, reading through journal articles like usual. (He had asked her what magazine she was reading once and he had been told it wasn’t a magazine, it was a peer-reviewed journal. He didn’t make that mistake anymore.) She worried about having lost so much time and was trying to make up for it as fast as she possibly could. He had asked her once why she didn’t just read them online and she had replied, “An electro-magnetic flare from the sun could wipe out all computer based storage. With hard copy I won’t lose my notes.” He still wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not.

The first time she had situated herself on his sofa with a stack of articles, she had flipped through the pages so quickly that he thought she wasn’t really reading. Then he had noticed her scribbling notes in the margins with her pen. The pen was never still. Even when she wasn’t writing, she was twiddling it, or tapping it against her chin. Sometimes she would open her mouth and knock it back and forth between her upper and bottom teeth. When she got to that point he would carefully remove the pen and replace it with his tongue. He was starting to think she was training him like Pavlov and he was going to need to kiss her any time he saw a pen.

Another thing that he learned was that she took up a lot of space. It was a bit surprising considering how tiny she was but she never sat when she could sprawl, and she slept like a starfish, spread out over the greatest possible amount of room. It wasn’t an inconvenience; even when she fell asleep on top of him she was light enough that it didn’t disturb him. Her stuff took up space as well. They had spent almost every night together since their first one, and she had taken to leaving things at his flat. He now had little stacks of her articles piled along one wall of the living room as she waited to move up to Cambridge on Sunday, and she had taped huge printouts of data to the wall so she could see it all at the same time. She had more highlighters than anyone he had ever met, and that was saying something considering how many actors he knew, and she was constantly drawing weird circular diagrams overlaid with arrows and Greek letters. Frankly he was glad the Greek letters were there because it reassured him that she wasn’t using some sort of alien language. She actually could speak Klingon so this was not an idle worry for him.

The biggest surprise he had learned about her was that she hated clothes. Not that this was a bad thing by any measure, but if she had her way, she would never put on trousers. Her preferred uniform when knocking about the flat was one of his tees and a pair of knickers. She had an extensive collection of them. Wondering which pair she had on now, he crossed to the sofa and pulled up the back of her shirt to look.

“You have a bow on your bum.”

She stretched her head around to look at him. “Yeah?”

He shook his head as he looked down at her rear, covered in sheer pink that was gathered in the middle to emphasize her cheeks, with a little bow at the top. “Yesterday your knickers had some sort of radioactive warning symbol on them.”

“That was the Galactic Empire logo from  _Star Wars_.”

His grin showed all his teeth. “Of course it was.” He let the shirt drop. “You realize I am never going to know what kind of lingerie to buy you, right?”

She rolled over onto her side against the back of the sofa and he sat down, his hip against the juncture of her thighs. He slid his hand along her leg and under her shirt, letting it come to rest on the slight dip of her waist.

“Why do you need to buy me lingerie?”

“I don’t need to. I just think it would be fun.” A smile started to pull at his lips as he began to trace patterns on her stomach with his fingers. “Knowing you have it on under whatever you’re wearing while we’re out to dinner or at a film, coming home, taking off your clothes to reveal it,” he leaned down towards her as he talked, “deciding how much of it you’re going to keep on and how much I’m going to take off.”

Her eyes were focused on his mouth. “That does sound fun.”

He brushed his lips against hers and then stopped and sat up. “Wait. The empire was the bad guys. You wear  _bad guy_ knickers?”

She grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged him back down to her. “Of course I do. Why do you think I like  _you_  so much?”


	3. The One Where Michael Calls for Help

“James,” Michael whispers into his phone.

“Michael,” James whispers back.

“What are you doing right now?”

“Reading a book.”

“Can you come over?”

“Why are we whispering?”

There was a pause of several seconds. “I don’t know. Come over, though. Fast.”

It speaks volumes about James and Michael’s friendship that James doesn’t even ask what it’s about.

Michael opens the door to his flat and pulls James in. “I need to show you something before Halla gets back.”

James’s eyes widen. “Oh god, did you buy her a ring already?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Michael cuffs James on the shoulder. “We’ve only been together a few weeks. I haven’t even told her I love her yet.”

“Do you?” James’s smile can best be described as mischievous. He arches one eyebrow in speculation.

“Do I what?”

“Love Halla.”

Another pause of several seconds and then a sheepish grin. “Maybe.”

“Michael and Halla, sitting in a tree,” James starts to sing, doing a dance that mostly consists of obscene hip wiggling and flailing his arms about.

“I will punch you in the face with no remorse.”

James stops. “Right. What did you want to show me?”

Michael pulls James into the living room and gestures at the diagrams Halla has taped all over the wall.

“That’s an interesting decorating choice, man.”

“That’s Halla’s work.”

James walks closer and peers at it carefully. “What is it?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I called you over. I know I’m uneducated, but I’m trying to decide if I’m stupid too.”

James looks closer at it and traces a few of the designs with his fingers before he steps back. “Well, I only went to drama school, but I have no idea what that is.”

Michael scratches his chin, his fingernails loud against the stubble. “That makes me feel a little bit better.”

“You know who you should call?”

“You say Ghostbusters and I will again punch you in the face.”

“Benedict Cumberbatch. He’s the smartest person I know.  _And_  he played Stephen Hawking.”

Michael grins and nods several times. “That’s a good idea.” He grabs his phone and scrolls through the contacts until he finds Ben’s name.

“Ben!”

“Michael, I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“I have a question. What are you doing right now?”

“I’m just running some errands. What can I do for you?”

“I need some advice on something. Would you mind coming over?”

“Not at all. Give me a few minutes and I’ll come on by.”

Ben walks into the room, his motorcycle helmet under his arm. “What’s going on?”

“Do you know what that is?” Michael points to the circular diagrams.

Ben walks closer to them and tilts his head to the side as he studies them. “Something to do with space maybe? Is this preparation for a role?”

“No, it’s my girlfriend’s work, and I can’t understand what she’s doing and I’m trying to figure out if I’m particularly stupid or if this is really advanced and most people wouldn’t understand it.”

He goes back to studying the bewildering array of drawings. “Well, I think it’s to do with space, and these notations are in Greek of some sort, but it doesn’t make sense to me.” He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Well, if the smart people don’t know, then I feel better.”

“You know who might know? Tom Hiddleston. He went to Cambridge and is fluent in Greek. Let me call him.”

Thirty minutes later Tom is standing in Michael’s living room staring at the papers covering the wall. The four men have almost identical expressions, one arm folded across their chest, their hand stroking their chin and their head tilted to the side. “It’s like she’s trying to communicate with The Doctor.”

“The Doctor?” Michael asks.

“From  _Doctor Who_.  All these overlapping circles. It’s almost Gallifreyan looking.”

Ben turns to him. “Four years at Cambridge and your explanation is Doctor Who.” He knows now how Sherlock feels when Anderson offers a suggestion.

“Well, the Greek is no help. Those aren’t words, those are mathematical formulae. I may speak Greek but I’m rubbish at maths.” He shrugs and throws his hands up in the air in surrender.

Michael sighs and scratches his chin again. “So you don’t understand this either?”

“Nope. What is it?”

“My girlfriend discovered an anomaly in space and is trying to explain it. She’s working on her Ph.D. at Cambridge.” He can’t help but brag on her a little.

“Maybe it’s Magrathea,” Ben volunteers.

James’s head drops and he rubs his forehead. “The two smartest people I know and your explanations are  _Doctor Who_  and  _The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy_?”

Tom pulls at the skin of his throat, his shoulders slouching. “This stuff is way over our heads. If she’s doing doctoral work in astrophysics, there are probably a dozen people in the world who understand what she’s doing. Don’t feel bad.”

“That does make me feel better.”

The four men go back to staring at the elaborate diagrams on the wall and are interrupted by a female voice from behind them. “If I’d know we were having company, I would have bought more at the market.” She puts the bags of food down on the counter.

Tom and Ben both look at each other in dismay. “Oh, we were just leaving, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Halla.” She smiles at the men, surprised at finding such an illustrious congregation in the living room and wonders how this became her life.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Ben and Tom both shake her hand and kiss her cheek, and James pulls her into a hug, and they all hurry out the door.

Halla watches the door close with a confused expression on her face and then turns back to Michael. “What was that all about?”

He looks at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Boy stuff.”

“Boy stuff?”

His bashful grin makes the slight blush to his cheeks more obvious. “Top secret boy stuff.”

“Riiiiight.” She nods. “Salmon or steak for dinner tonight?”


	4. You Make Me Feel

Michael looked over the top of his iPad at where Halla was laying stretched out on the sofa, her hair pulled up in a messy knot on top of her head. He could see at least two pens sticking out of it. Every time she got up to get a snack, she’d stick her pen in her hair, and then forget it was there and get another one out of her bag when she got back. “Do you have glow in the dark space knickers?”

She looked up. “Do I have  _what_?”

His grin showed all of his teeth. “Glow in the dark space knickers.”

She scratched her head and laughed. “I didn’t know such a thing existed.”

Michael flipped the iPad around so she could see and she squinted at it.

“Why were you looking for glow in the dark space knickers?”

“James sent me the link.”

Her eyes narrowed and a blush started to creep up her neck. “Why is  _James_  looking for glow in the dark space knickers?”

“He was probably looking for something for Anne-Marie and stumbled across these. You wore your space tights over there the other night. He probably thought you might like these too.”

Halla pulled her shirt up over her head. “I am going to die of embarrassment.”

“Hey, show me your face.”

Halla pulled the fabric down enough so her eyes were peering over the top of the collar. Michael just looked at her until she tugged it the rest of the way down.

 “Now, why are you embarrassed?”

Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t want James thinking about my pants.”

“Is it okay if I think about your pants?”

She laughed and threw a highlighter at him. “Well, yes. I let you take them off of me, so you’re allowed to think about them.”

He tossed it back at her. “Would you like some glow in the dark space knickers, Halla?”

“Yes, please.” She smiled sweetly and went back to her reading.

Michael selected the correct size and then added them to his cart.

A few minutes later Michael asked, “What’s a bralette?”

Halla looked up. “Are you still looking at underthings?”

“Yes. What’s a bralette?”

She giggled at the confusion on his face. “It’s like a wanna-be bra. Mostly for pretty, no real support. People with boobs tend to wear them to sleep in or for sexy times. I can wear them as an actual bra. Not that I need an actual bra.”

“What do you mean?”

She rolled over on her side and swept her hand down her body. “Look at me. If it wasn’t for me wearing pink all the time and my penchant for berry-colored lipstick, people would think I was a boy.”

He tilted his head to the side as he pressed his lips into a firm line. “No one is ever going to think you’re a boy.”

She rolled her eyes before she muttered, “Yeah, well I definitely don’t look like your last few girlfriends.”

He rubbed the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he tried to give her the benefit of the doubt on that statement. She surely couldn’t be referring to skin color. “What do you mean by that?”

She fiddled with the highlighter “Look at them. They were gorgeous and had boobs and hips and, you know, something for you to hold on to.”

Michael carefully put his iPad down and walked across the room to her. He held out his hand. Halla looked from it back up to his face. “What?”

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything, just pointed at his hand with his chin. She put her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet and then tugged her up the stairs, through the bedroom and into the en-suite. He stopped her in front of the floor length mirror she had installed when she had been his assistant – ‘Seriously, look at yourself before you go outside and think, ‘Do I want to be photographed looking like this?’ – that he never used. “Now, tell me what you see, because I am obviously not seeing what you’re seeing.”

She scowled at herself in the mirror. “I look like a boy.”

“How? Show me exactly how you look like a boy.”

“I have no boobs.”

Michael frowned. “Take your shirt off. Show me.”

Her eyes met his in the reflection. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Take your shirt off.”

Halla pulled her tee off and dropped it on the floor.

He reached around her and tapped her chest in the mirror. “Those look like boobs to me.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping and her hip jutting out to the side. “I look like a teenage boy who glued Jammie Dodgers to his chest.”

Michael laughed at the image. “So your problem isn’t that you have no boobs, it’s that you have small boobs.”

“They’re so small they don’t count. My boobs are the Pluto of the boob world.”

Michael rubbed his hand against his forehead as he continued to laugh. Dating a space-nut made for interesting analogies. “Alright, so first issue is small boobs. What else do you see?”

“I don’t have a waist.”

He put her hands on her waist. “You look like you have one to me.”

“But it doesn’t go in enough. It doesn’t curve.” She drew the desired shape in the air with both her hands.

“You want an hourglass shape?”

“Yes, with round hips and curves.” She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at her feet. “Growing up the school nurse takes all the girls into a separate classroom and she teaches you about puberty and all these things that are going to happen to your body and I feel like I’m still waiting. Like, I got the period and the body hair, but I’m still waiting for the rest of it to happen.”

Michael made a soft sound of understanding. His voice was much more gentle when he spoke.“So, when you’re saying you look like a boy, you’re really saying you don’t look like a woman.”

“Yeah.”

Michael nodded. “Well, I think you look like a woman. All those guys who thought you were an escort probably thought you looked like a woman, too.”

She stuck her tongue out at him in the mirror. “Very funny.”

“I’m serious though.” He stroked his hands up and down her sides, his fingers spanning her rib cage. “I think you have an idea of what a woman is supposed to look like, and it’s a lot more specific than what men think women should look like.”

“I look at you and I think, ‘Sex. Man and sex. Sexy man.’ That’s my internal monologue, and then I look at me and I think, ‘eh.’”

He caught her eyes in the mirror. “Do you want to know what I think when I look at you?”

She screwed up her face in fear. “Do I?” She opened one eye and peered at him.

He pulled the pens from her hair and ran his fingers through it so it fell around her shoulders. “When I see your hair I think, ‘I love it when we’re making love and she’s riding me and her hair falls around us like a curtain so it’s just her and me.’” He kissed the side of her neck. “And I think, ‘I love her shoulders. I love licking the dip right behind her clavicle,’” his actions followed his words, “’and I love to slide her bra strap off of her shoulder with my kisses and I love the way her shoulders fit between my arms.’” He wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest. “And then my eyes fall a little lower and they land on your breasts and I think, ‘She has the most sensitive breasts I have ever touched. I love to take them in my mouth and feel her writhe under me as I tease them with my tongue.’” He covered her breasts with his hands for a moment and then began to stroke her nipples with his thumbs. They hardened under his touch and he watched her in the mirror as she lifted an arm and wound it around his neck. Her back arched away from his chest as she pressed against his fingers. “Do you see that, darlin? Just because they aren’t the size of melons doesn’t mean they aren’t perfect.” He tugged on her nipples and she moaned.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, and she turned her head back and up and he took her mouth. Her fingers tightened on the back of his neck as she whimpered and he kissed her harder, their mouths moving like they were trying to devour each other. He teased her nipples until they were hard under his fingers and tugged them, feeling the tremors arc through her body. She gasped for breath and he scraped his teeth against her tongue before he let her mouth go.

“I love your stomach,” he whispered against her ear, nibbling at the soft skin as he spoke and as his hand slowly moved down her body, “and the dip of your waist and the slight swell of your tummy and the feel of your hips, that I can stroke the outline of your hip bone,” his fingers trailed along the slight ridge and followed it under the waist of her purple knickers, “when I am licking your clit, and even if we have a height difference, your legs fit perfectly around my waist.”

She watched in the mirror as his hand delved between her thighs. He pressed his leg between hers and nudged her legs open wider as he started to slowly stroke his finger across the damp skin. “Michael,” she whimpered, and he hushed her.

“Let me tell you with my body how beautiful you are to me.”

He cupped her mound with his hand and pressed her body back against him, letting her feel his growing hardness against the small of her back. “Do you feel the effect you have on me, baby?”

Halla nodded, her teeth sinking into the side of her bottom lip.

He rubbed against her, grinding against her bare skin. “When you think you aren’t woman enough, I want you to think of the feel of my cock right now and how hard you get me.”

He pulled his hand from her knickers and stripped them from her before he tugged her over to the bed, picking her up and positioning her in the middle of the bed facing the door to the en suite. He knelt behind her, straddling her legs. “Look up, darlin.” Halla lifted her head and realized she could see both of them in the mirror.

He grabbed her by the hips and thrust into her without warning. Her mouth dropped open on a harsh gasp as she threw her head back. His fingers dug into her hips. “You’ve got plenty for me to hold on to, baby.” He thrust again and she opened her eyes to watch him in the mirror. She could see the muscles in his arms and chest tighten and relax as he began a hard steady rhythm that had her moaning with each slap of his hips against her thighs. She had no idea she looked so debauched during sex, her hair a mess around her face, her mouth open and panting, the flush to her skin, the sway of her body with every thrust of his body into her. Not that he looked civilized either. His mouth was open as he grunted, pulling her back by her hips as he shoved forward, forcing her to take him deeper with each thrust. The tendons in his neck stood out as his jaw thrust forward and his nails dug into her hips. Her entire body was flushed with heat, and she could feel her nerves drawing taut, constricting all of her attention to the feel of him stretching her open with each push of his body into her.

He bent forward and latched one arm around her, reaching up and grabbing her shoulder, his arm crossing between her breasts, as he sought out her clit with his other hand. She cried out as he started to rub her clit in tiny circles with two of his fingers. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So hot and wet and tight around my cock,” he murmured as he continued to drive into her. “Your body is perfect. You are perfect, and I think you’re fucking gorgeous.” He continued to whisper to her as he stroked her clit, taking breaks to lick and bite the soft skin of her ear.

He could feel her legs start to tremble and her stomach growing taut as she got closer to coming. Her eyes were screwed shut as she gnawed at her lip, her hips alternating between grinding circles against his fingers and pushing back against his thrusting cock. Her whine was climbing the scale and he whispered, “Kiss me.” She turned her head and he captured her mouth again, and the lick of his tongue against her lips caused her to moan one more time and then he tightened his arm around her stomach as her arms gave out as she screamed his name. The heat in her body all sucked back into one infinitesimally small dot like the water rushing away from the shore after an earthquake and then there was that endless second where she balanced on the edge of infinity before the nuclear heat shattered and washed back over her, leaving her glowing and shaking in its wake.

Michael tucked his chin over her shoulder as he thrust a few last times, her pussy clamping around his cock. Her name came out through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth as he felt himself thicken and throb and then release deep inside her. He held her up, his weight balanced on his knees and one hand, until he could feel her slowly regain control of her body and her arms took on some semblance of rigidity. He slowly pulled out of her, smiling as she whined in disappointment. He flipped over onto his back and Halla simply collapsed next to him.

He brushed the hair back from her face so he could see her face, pink and glistening, and smiled. “You may not think you look like a woman, Halla, but god damn, you sure as hell make me feel like a man.”


	5. It's What You Do to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finally settled on a face claim for Halla when I made the It’s Never Over graphic. She’s a Latvian model named Ginta Lapina and she was perfect for Halla with the right coloring and the right build and similar looking to the picture I had used for It Ain’t Over. And then I found this picture of her, and thought, “Hmmmm, I wonder what Michael would do if he saw Halla like that.” And then this happened.

Halla tried to keep from gnawing on her bottom lip as she waited for Michael to come back. She glanced at the clock. It had only moved one minute from the last time she had looked, meaning he was now two minutes late. She ran into the loo to check her makeup one more time. She smiled at herself to make sure she hadn’t gotten any of the dark lipstick on her teeth and fluffed her hair again. Staring in the mirror was like looking at a stranger. She’d confided in Chelsea that she didn’t know how to do sexpot. Girly was fine, all pink and glittery. Fun knickers she had no problems with, either. But sexy? She’d never done the whole lingerie and big hair thing, and had no idea how to do cat eye eyeliner. They had spent an entire afternoon practicing until Halla had enough of a steady hand that she felt comfortable with it. And then they had moved on to hair. Halla could curl her hair, but she wanted to do something different with it and they had giggled their way through half a dozen options before settling on the one she wore right now, side-swept fringe partially obscuring her eyes and lots of curls drawn over her shoulder but not covering the black lace bralette she was wearing.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. Right? She just had to go stand there and he would take one look at her and take over. She practiced her sexy face in the mirror –  _I look like I’m ill –_ and went back out to the lounge to wait for him to come back. She heard his key in the lock and hurriedly adjusted the deep purple suspenders. She’d never worn something like this before and still was half convinced she’d put them on wrong. Oh well, too late now. At least she knew she had her knickers on correctly. She clasped her hands behind her back so her chest would stick out a bit, needing every bit of help she could get. She heard the door shut and tried her best to look sultry, her mouth open slightly, her eyelids partly lowered.

Michael came around the corner into the living room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. She waited for a response but he just stared at her from across the room, his helmet dangling unheeded from his hand, his mouth slightly open. Her fingers unlocked from each other and her shoulders started to curl forward. “Oh god, I look ridiculous don’t I?” Her eye contact faltered and fell as she moved to cross her arms over her chest, feeling painfully exposed, but he was instantly in front of her.

“You look incredible, baby.” He caught her wrists. “I was stunned speechless.”

Heat rose in her cheeks and splashed across her chest, tinting her skin pink. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, still lacking the confidence to fully meet his gaze. “Really?”

He pressed her hand against the button fly of his jeans. “Don’t you ever tell me you look like a twelve year old boy again, Halla, because you,” he shook his head and blew out a breath across his teeth, “you are fucking sexy.”

Her blush heightened as she felt how hard he was already and she rubbed her palm against the front of his jeans, feeling him responding even more to her touch. “You really think I look sexy?”

“I do, baby.” He rubbed the side of his thumb against her nipple, letting the black lace add to the friction. Halla sucked in air as her whole chest began to tingle in response to his lazy caress. “I think you’re sexy normally. But this,” he slid a finger under the strap of her suspenders and stroked up and down, “makes me want to fuck you up against the wall.”

“I wish you would, because I feel really awkward standing here dressed like this.”

He pressed her up against the wall, his hands wrapping around her shoulders. “You might regret saying that.” He closed his mouth over hers and her nervous tension evaporated as he kissed her, condensing against her skin and raining down into a wet heat pooling between her thighs. His hands were on her breasts, using the mesh of the lace to tease her nipples to a perfect hardness as she tugged at the button on his jeans, hearing the first button softly pop open and then feeling the slight tug at the fabric as each succeeding button resisted and then gave way to her demands. His teeth closed on her lip as she shoved his jeans down, taking his pants with them, and the fabric dragged at his cock before it came free. She wrapped her fingers around him, sliding her fingers up and down his shaft and his groan rumbled through her.

He pulled up her bra, exposing her breasts to his mouth and he licked his way around both nipples before finally settling on one, sucking in a mouthful of flesh before he pulled back, scraping his teeth against the skin to settle on teasing the nipple with the continuing movement of his tongue. His hand slid down her soft skin, over the slight bumps of her ribs and the gentle curve of her waist to press between her legs, the heel of his hand pressing right above her pelvic bone as his fingers rubbed against the damp silk of her knickers. She went up on her tip toes to push against his hand, aching already for his touch, for him to fill her emptiness.

Halla twisted her fingers around his cock before letting the heated shaft slide through her fingers so she could rub her thumb over the silken top, feeling the first few drops of his response. Michael’s teeth tugged at her nipple as he thrust into her hand. She tightened her hand around him and stroked him harder and he responded by shoving her knickers to the side and plunging a finger into her waiting heat.

“Fuck, Michael,” she whimpered as her hips bucked forward. He claimed her mouth again and her free arm wrapped around his neck. They quickly matched each other’s pace, his finger inside her echoing the rhythm at which she pumped him to a throbbing hardness. He pressed another finger inside her and she moaned into his mouth, her hand fisting around his cock.

“Halla, baby,” he groaned against her mouth and she nodded.

“Please, now!”

He pulled his hand from between her thighs and grabbed her hips, boosting her upward, spine flat against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him and used one hand to hold her knickers out of the way as she guided the head of his cock to her pussy with the other. He sank himself in her with a groan that shook both of them and she pushed her hips up, trying to seat him right where she wanted him.  He pulled almost all the way out before he plunged forward again and she gave up any search for something more perfect than the feel of him stretching her open with his thickness. She rocked her hips forward again and cried out as the edge of her knickers rubbed against her clit.

Her head fell back against the wall and Michael kissed her throat, his lips soft as his cock was hard. Halla rocked her hips up to meet every one of his thrusts, silk sliding against her clit as his fingers dug almost painfully into her hips. The sound of his ragged breathing, the feel of his air brushing against her skin, his hands slipping under her knickers so he was holding her bare skin because silk and lycra were too much of a barrier to what he wanted, her stockinged ankles sliding against each other as she moved with him, the relentless thrust of his cock inside her, stretching her, rubbing her, the friction causing her nerves to smolder and smoke; it was  all too much and the familiar tightening in her belly started and she arched her hips off of the wall, seeking after the spark he would use to ignite her. She grabbed his shoulders, her nails digging into his leather jacket as her entire body went taut with expectation.

“Look at me, Halla.”

She forced her eyes open and lifted her head enough to see him in all his wild glory. Her lipstick was smeared across his mouth and his eyes were practically glowing as his breath came out in little grunts. He continued pulling her nerves even tighter with each thrust of his body into hers and she whined, barely able to withstand the intensity of the way he was looking at her.

“You are so beautiful, baby.”

She whined one more time and let her head fall back against the wall again. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and then let loose a keening cry that set her entire body rigid. Her legs turned into iron bands around his hips and he had to fight for the last few thrusts he needed to join her in orgasm. She clung to him, letting her head fall against his shoulder as she trembled from the force of her response to him and they struggled for breath together. Finally, Michael shuffled backwards, his jeans still around his ankles and collapsed onto the sofa, still holding Halla against him. His hands moved to her back, stroking the expanse of bare skin between the suspenders and the bottom of the little scrap of lace that was her bra.

Halla softly kissed his throat. “I’m starting to see the appeal of lingerie.”

“That wasn’t the lingerie baby.” His hands sunk to her rear and squeezed. “That’s just you. The more I have you, the more I want you. I don’t care what you’re wearing.”

She smiled. “Positive feedback loop.”

“Whatever you want to call it, it’s all you, darling. It’s what you do to me.”


	6. I think I like science

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place at an unspecified point in time during A Year in the Life

Michael came out of the bathroom and looked around the empty bedroom for Halla. She had been in here getting ready for bed just a moment ago and she’d already had a bedtime snack so he didn’t think she’d gone downstairs again. “Halla?”

“Yes?”

Her disembodied voice came from the general area of the bed. He looked closer at the disarrayed pile of blankets and realized she had the white flat sheet pulled up all the way over her head. “What are you doing?”

“Being under the sheet.”

He scratched the top of his head as he watched the sheet move with her breathing. “Any particular reason why?”

“Do people actually do this in real life?”

“Um, apparently, because you are and though I’m not always positive when I’m around you, I’m fairly certain this is reality.”

Her laughter made the sheet puff out around her face. “No, silly. I mean the whole thing from the movies where two people get under the billowy white sheet and it’s all romantic and crap. Because it’s sort of just lying on my face and getting in my mouth when I try to talk. I think I’m developing claustrophobia.”

He chuckled and walked over to the bed. “I think you’re supposed to have someone else in there with you.”

“Come here then. I want to experiment.”

Michael smiled. Halla loved to experiment. Her curiosity was insatiable and she wanted to test everything. He’d been roped into her experiments before, including a blindfolded taste test of nine different types of Greek yogurt so she could make sure to get the best kind at the market. He yanked up the bottom of the sheet and crawled under it, making Halla giggle as he kissed his scratchy way up her legs. He snapped the leg band of her pink floral panties with one long finger before he pulled up her top enough to rub his scruff against her belly. Halla shrieked at the surprise attack and clutched his head in both hands as she balled up in laughter. He worked the rest of the way up her body, leaving a trail of kisses the length of her sternum before he rested next to her, his head propped up so the sheet was tented over both of them. He trailed his fingertip over her bottom lip. “Is this more what you imagined?”

“A bit.” She brushed her lips over the rough stubble on his chin. “Definitely more enjoyable than being in here by myself.”

“So, now that we’re both in here, what do you propose that we do?” His hand stroked over the warm skin of her waist, his fingers edging under the ribbed white cotton of her vest top.

“Well, I think we’re supposed to get all romantic and smoochy or something.” She made a gagging face, but it was belied by the way she had worked her leg in between his.

Michael edged the strap of her top off of her shoulder and began to lick across her collarbone. “Where did you get an idea like that?”

The sheet brushed over her nose as she tilted her head to allow his kisses to continue up her throat. “You mean besides swooning over Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo and Juliet?”

The kisses came to an abrupt halt and the sheet popped up as Michael lifted his head. “You had a crush on Leonardo DiCaprio?”

Halla laughed and stroked her hands over his shoulders and across his chest. “Who didn’t?”

Michael wrapped his hand around Halla’s and pinned it to the bed. “So am I standing in for Leo here and giving you a chance to play out your girlhood fantasies?”

The color rose in her cheeks and Halla turned her head to the side so she didn’t have to meet his eyes. “Well, I finally got around to watching The Counselor.”

He nodded, his lips pursing together to keep from grinning. “I was wondering if that might have something to do with it.” Michael let go of her hand and began to kiss the other side of her neck, half-pinning her body under his.

“Watching you be all sexy with She Who Shall Not Be Named.”

Michael got out “Her name is Pen–,” before Halla smooshed his lips together with her fingers.

“I said she shall not be named, not that I don’t know her name.”

His smirk popped his lips loose from her grasp. “You a little jealous, baby?”

Michael watched as the bright irritation in her eyes faded to a dull pain. “I think you could take four of my boobies and it still wouldn’t make up one of hers.” Even with the sheet holding in all the sound, she was quiet enough that it was difficult to hear her confession.

Michael closed his hand over her breast and squeezed. “You know I love your breasts, baby.”

“I know. But I’ve watched other stuff with you and usually you’re not being all sexy with some beautiful woman so it’s not bad. Like even in Shame it wasn’t a problem, even when it was with your ex-girlfriend, because it wasn’t about love, but this time you loved her.”

Michael ran the back of his fingers against Halla’s cheek. “It was just acting.”

She shook off his caress and her chin jutted forward. “Well, you’re a very good actor.”

Michael smiled at Halla’s indignant reaction and leaned down to kiss her, the sheet draping over his shoulders and making the little space around their faces warm and humid with their shared breath. “Would you like to roll around in the sheets with me? Give you some memories of your own to replace the ones from the movie?”

Halla brought her hands up to her face, hiding her mouth behind her small fists. She glared at Michael over the top of them for a long moment long before politely saying, “Yes please.”

His hand slipped up under her top and covered her breast. “Do you want to get all romantic and smoochy with me, Halla?”

She tried to act like his smirk didn’t have an effect on her knickers. “Maybe.”

He let his weight settle over her a bit more. “What do I need to do to convince you to kiss me, baby?”

“Say something sexy.”

Michael’s jaw worked to the side as he thought and then a grin spread across his face. “The six flavors of quarks are up, down, strange, charm, bottom, and top.”

Halla’s laughter pealed out before she grabbed his face and tugged it down to hers. She planted a wet sloppy kiss on him. “You are such a nerd.”

Michael shook his head. “Nope, you’re the nerd. I’m just the guy who’s in love with you and your strange charm.”

She giggled and kissed him again. “How in the world did you end up learning about quarks?”

“I was reading one of your emails and I looked up a word you used. I kept clicking on links trying to get it to explain the words in the definitions and eventually I ended up at quarks so I stopped. I seriously don’t understand how you keep all this stuff organized in your little head.”

“Mind palace.”

Michael laughed and rolled them over so she was on top of him. “Alright, Sherlock. Now you say something sexy.”

Halla swiveled her hips until she was comfortably situated over his waist and Michael’s hands slid across her skin to curve inside the back of her knickers and cup her bum. She dragged her fingers up her sides and hooked them around the bottom of her top and slowly pulled it up, tugging it over her head, the sheet curling around her as her arms lifted. She dropped the shirt behind her and Michael groaned as it landed on his swelling cock. His fingers dug into her hips as Halla leaned forward and planted both of her hands on his chest. Her fingernails curled against the skin as she bent towards him. He ran his fingers up her spine and she arched her back, pressing her breasts against his skin. Her hair fell around his face, the sheet covering her like a veil and she whispered against his lips, “I need to feel your cock inside me more than I need air.”

The air left him in a rush as she underscored her words with a sinuous twist of her hips that ground her cotton covered pussy down his happy trail and brushed against his cock. Her tongue flicked out and teased his nipple and one of his hands grabbed a handful of her hair as the other one closed on her rear and he rolled them back over, trapping the sheet under her back. “Then let me give you what you need, baby.”

He knelt between her legs and pulled at her panties and she lifted her hips to help. He couldn’t resist kissing the inside of her knee and the sole of her foot as he tugged them off, and felt compelled to explore her damp pussy with his tongue.

One of Halla’s hand clutched at the sheet draped over her as his tongue swirled against her clit and then was replaced with his lips. She couldn’t see him, just the ripples in the white cotton as he moved, but she could feel the prickle of every hair on his chin and the friction of every taste bud on his tongue and the air around her felt like the tropics as her breathing turned into deep sighs of pleasure.

Michael’s hand closed over her breast and squeezed as he pressed his tongue inside her, and her cry echoed in his ears. She was rich and sweet on his tongue as he dragged it back up to her clit, flicking against it one more time. This time the rub of stubble on her stomach didn’t make her laugh as he kissed his way back up her body, sucking at her nipples until they were the color of raspberries.

The sheet strained over his shoulders as he rested on his hands over her. Halla ran a hand down his chest and then wrapped her fingers around his cock. His breath hissed through his teeth as she stroked it slowly, bringing him to an aching hardness before she positioned it at the entrance of her pussy. The heat of her pussy giving way as he pushed inside her burned through him, and a groan ripped from his throat, snapping his head back with enough force to pull the sheet free from under Halla’s arched back. His hand stroked down her leg, hooking it around his waist as he sheathed himself in her body.

Halla moaned, the taut stretch of her body around him exquisite and simultaneously filling her need for him and making her cravings for him blossom and swell. Her body ached with want as he pulled out and then sank himself into her again. When he pulled back again, she tightened her leg around him, trying to keep him fully inside her.

“No, baby, you need to let me move,” he murmured against her ear before his tongue laved the soft skin along her jaw.

Halla whimpered but relaxed the grip of her leg and his hips rocked against her, a steady in and out that eroded the last control over her urges that she had clung to. She wrapped her arms around him, gripping his shoulders from behind, tucking her face into his chest as he moved over her, the sheet fluttering with the steady rhythm. The scent of their arousal filled the hot space, claiming their lungs as they breathed, turning them into bellows stoking the fire that was burning them both.

Michael couldn’t see Halla’s face as she clung to him, but he could feel her lips against his chest and the growing tension in her thighs as she locked her ankles behind his back. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear her, the pitch of her fevered gasps rising, the babble of his name and fuck and oh god pouring out and swirling together. “That’s right, baby. I’ve got you. Come for me now, darling. Come for me, Halla.”

Her head fell back as she keened in pleasure and he marked the crook of her neck with his teeth, still finding it odd to not have the thin gold chain there like it had always been. His tongue rubbed over the pale pink scar that was already fading and he kissed every inch of it. Her pussy clenched around him and she gasped and with one final snap of his hips she bowed up off of the bed, lifting to him, to his cock, to the source of the pleasure drowning her in endless waves.

He followed her, the muscles under her hands tensing, his arms trembling as he spilled himself into her, his groan of ecstasy hanging warm in the air around them. He rolled off of her and she laid there, motionless except for the heaving of her chest. He could barely see her as the sheet sagged between their bodies but he turned over on his side and kept the sheet from clinging to her face as she fought to fill her lungs.

Eventually her eyes opened and she smiled up at him. “I think the experiment was a success.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded. “More people should do this in real life.” She reached up and brushed her fingertips against the sheet.

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure science requires repeated findings to be considered conclusive, though.”

Halla giggled and rested her hand against his cheek. “So you’re saying we need to have more sex for science?”

He nodded solemnly. “For science.”

“Well,” she brushed her hair back out of her face, though some of it clung to the sheet, “you do have other sheet colors we can test out.”

“And we should probably see if time of day matters,” he added.

“My place or yours…”

He laughed and kissed her. “I think I like science.”


	7. Stinky German Perfume

Halla stared into the refrigerator hoping something would have miraculously appeared since the last time she had looked inside it five minutes ago.

“Hey baby, come in here.”

Halla shut the door, disappointed in the lack of miraculously appearing food, wondered when science was finally going to invent a replicator, and sulked into the living room where Michael was sniffing a perfume insert in one of his weird German magazines. He subscribed to several to keep up his proficiency with the language but the times she had looked through them it just seemed like everyone was very angry. She stopped several feet away from him.

“Come here. You should try this.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not going to wear one of your stinky German perfumes.”

“It’s not stinky. It smells good.”

She let out a little humph of disagreement and peered down her nose at him, imperious as an empress surveying her army. “Maybe your nose doesn’t work right.”

“My nose is fine.”

“Not if you think those perfume thingies smell good. I think the cigarette smoke broke your smelling parts.”

He snorted. “My smelling parts?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not a biologist, okay?”

Michael laughed as he stood up from his chair. “Come here, just try it.”

“No!” Halla ran back into the kitchen like she was fleeing her army that was apparently now set on having a coup. “You can’t make me,” she yelled in her best impersonation of a four year old.

Michael walked into the kitchen to find her trying to hide behind a jelly roll pan. He rested his hands on his hips. “You wanna bet?”

Halla giggled and stuck her tongue out at him. “You have to catch me first.”

He took a step towards her and she tossed the pan at him. He reached out to grab it and she flung the refrigerator door open and ran out the other end of the kitchen. Michael grabbed the door before it hit him in the stomach and shut it, put the pan on the counter, and picked the magazine up off of the floor before he went after her.

Halla wasn’t in the living room. He looked around wondering where she could possibly be hiding. She was little, but she wasn’t that little and he didn’t think she was fast enough to make it to the staircase and out of sight before he got into the living room but there was no other explanation. He would have heard the door to the closet open if she was in there.

He stood at the stairs, trying to decide if she would more likely have gone upstairs or down to the lounge. She normally didn’t go downstairs, that’s where the bar was, so he decided that was her more likely hiding spot. He ran down the stairs but didn’t see her on a first examination. A quick check behind the furniture and she wasn’t there either. He shook his head. She must have gone upstairs after all.

Magazine still in hand, he took the stairs two at a time up to the first floor and started opening doors. Halla waited until she had heard two doors open before she crawled out from under the sofa and snuck downstairs.  She quickly scanned the room for a likely hiding place and decided the wall of cabinets was her best bet. Holding her breath, she opened them quickly and breathed a sigh of relief when she found a large one that was mostly empty. She squeezed herself inside, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulled the door shut behind her, hooking her fingernail into the head of a screw to tug it the final bit closed.

She sat in the dark and waited.

A few minutes passed before she heard him come down the stairs into the living room. He called her name sounding genuinely confused and she stuffed her knuckles in her mouth to stifle her laughter. Another minute passed and she heard his tread on the stairs coming down to the lounge. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he would go the other direction to start searching the room and give her a chance to make a run back up the stairs.

The fates were with her and she waited until he sounded like he was completely across the room before she made a break for it. Halla took a deep breath and burst out of the cabinet and scrambled for the stairs. His uproarious laughter followed her as she took the first few on her hands and knees, trying to get to a full stand as she scurried away. He chased after her again and she hit the top step right as his fingers closed around her foot. She kicked him loose, but not before falling to her hands and knees again and she crawled as fast as possible across the foyer, laughing so hard she could hardly coordinate her movements.

Michael scrambled up after her and caught her by the ankle and began to pull her slowly back across the tile floor to where he crouched on the stairs. Halla clawed at the smooth tile but couldn’t find any traction and finally gave up, laughing helplessly as she was pulled into Michael’s arms, turned around and seated on the step above the one he knelt on.

She sighed deeply and scooted forward on the stair until their stomachs were touching. “I guess you caught me.”  The effect of her dramatic slouch was undercut by her biting her bottom lip to keep from giggling again.

“I’ll always catch you, baby.” His hand closed over her rear and he pulled her even closer to him. “Now, give me your arm.” She held it out for him and he rubbed the insert the length of her forearm and then raised an eyebrow at her. “Now smell.”

Her nose wrinkled as she brought her wrist towards her face but she leaned forward and delicately sniffed. She paused for a second and inhaled deeper.

“Hey, this smells really nice. Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

Michael’s eyes slowly closed and his chin sank to his chest. He shook his head back and forth.

Halla tried not to giggle. She really did. But she couldn’t help it. “It’s a good thing you love me, huh?”

“Yes. It’s the only thing keeping me from rubbing the stinky ones all over you.”

Her nose wrinkled. “That would be gross.” She paused and bit her lip. “I know something else you could rub on me though.”

He chuckled deep in his throat. “Is that so?”

She nodded and scooted off of his lap and up the few stairs behind her, lifting herself onto each one. She carefully got to her feet and Michael leaned forward to grab her, realizing too late what she was doing. Her laughter rang out as she dashed up the other flight of stairs. “But you’ll have to catch me first!”


	8. Jupiter Stress Ball

Michael tapped on the open office door. “You ready for a break, baby?”

Halla spun around in her chair. Her response died on her tongue as she saw him standing there in nothing but a snug pair of boxer briefs. She stabbed a finger at him. “You go away!”

“Why?”

Halla dug her fingernails into the arms of her chair, holding herself in her chair by sheer force of will. “You’re not allowed to come in here looking like that.”

Michael pursed his lips. His brow furrowed in innocent confusion. “Like what? I’m just in my pants.”

“Exactly. You’re all muscly and big and stubbled and then you come in here looking like that and do you know how long it took me to get all my papers back in order after the last time we had sex on my desk?”

 “A while?”

God, his cheeky grin was a sin and a crime. “Entire species evolved and went extinct in the time it took to get things sorted.”

He beckoned with a single crooked finger. “Then come over here away from your desk.”

And now with the accent.  Halla swore he was making it more pronounced than normal as she felt her fingers loosening on the arm rest. “No, because then we’ll end up having sex.”

 “Is that so bad?”

There was that grin again. They’d just had sex this morning. Why did she want him so bad she ached with it already? “I have to get this work done.”

He sighed. “Fine. I’ll go away.”

Halla watched him leave and then waited a bit to see if he was going to come back before she finally turned around and got back to work. A few minutes later, he knocked on the door again. This time he was completely naked.

“Can I get you a snack?”

Halla picked up her squishy Jupiter stress ball and launched it at his head. He dodged and she heard him laughing as he scampered down the stairs.

It was almost twenty minutes before there was another tap on the door. Halla rubbed her hand tiredly against her forehead before she slowly spun around in her chair.

He was naked.

And hard.

And his chest was moving in time with the stroke of his hand over his cock.

“Fuck,” she whispered. She didn’t breathe as she watched him pleasuring himself until her lungs screamed a reminder at her that she wasn’t anaerobic. “Fine,” she stood up and walked over to him, stripping out of her clothes as she went. “But up against the door or on the floor. Don’t touch my desk.”


End file.
